


A Second Chance

by cazmalfoy



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen knew that he had never stopped loving Michael, even though he hated him with every inch of his being and wanted to never hear the words Michael Weatherly ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This is RPS - Real Person Slash. I do not know Jensen Ackles or Michael Weatherly. No profit is being made from this story, and no offence is intended.
> 
> This was simply written for entertainment purposes.

Dark and dreary clouds hung overhead, threatening to split open and send gallons of water falling to the Earth below.  
  
Jensen sighed and turned away from the window. The weather outside was doing nothing to help his mood. They had finished filming the season and few days ago, allowing them to get some well deserved rest. But ever since he had set foot in his house Jensen hadn’t even been able to think about relaxing. His answering machine was practically over flowing with messages that Jensen had barely listened to as he grabbed a snack to tide him over until he could be bothered making a full meal. All the calls on the machine were from one person; a person he hadn’t spoken to in almost three years. Jensen didn’t even know how the other person had got his phone number. He had changed it several times to ensure that they had no way to contact each other.  
  
Jensen still had his number, of course. A crumpled piece of paper that was lying in a beat up box that was residing underneath his bed. He had never told anyone about it, for fear that it was a girly thing to do. Whenever he had been through a shitty day at work, Jensen would get as drunk as he possibly could without killing himself, before pulling the box out. He would look through it; glancing at the pictures that were tattered around the edges, reading through the folded notes that had been slipped to him during filming. Jensen would get halfway through dialling the number before getting cold feet and severing the connection once more.  
  
He sat at his kitchen table, reading the tabloid magazine he had picked up at the gas station on his way home. There was the usual pictures of various celebrities making fools of themselves in front of the paparazzi. He couldn’t bring himself to care about what Britney Spears was doing or where Paris Hilton had been seen partying and he quickly lost interest, sliding the magazine across the table. He watched as the glossy paper slid across the polished surface and fell to the floor with a dull thud.  
  
Jensen let out a breath as he rose to his feet to retrieve the magazine. He stooped down low to pick it up, only to stand upright abruptly when his door bell rang. He scowled in the direction of the door and contemplated ignoring whoever was on the other side. However, when whoever it was kept pressing the buzzer, he stalked down the hallway and wrenched the door open, cursing himself for not investing in a spy hole as his heart dropped down into his stomach.  
  
On the other side of the door stood the very person that had calling him insistently for god knows how long. “Hey,” Michael greeted, pushing his wet fringe off of his forehead.  
  
Jensen looked past him at the garden that was in front of his house. The clouds had carried out their threat and it was now raining almost as much as it had when Noah was in the ark. “How’d you know where to find me?” he asked quietly.   
  
He stepped aside to let the older man into his house, because no matter how much tension there had been between the two of them the last time they had been in the same room, Jensen knew that he wasn’t the type of person who would let someone stand outside in the pouring rain.  
  
“You haven’t moved house,” Michael pointed out, a half smile on his face.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Jensen murmured, closing the door and heading up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t bother telling Michael to wait for him, or follow him up the stairs. He knew from past experience that the other man would follow him, regardless of what Jensen said. “Here,” he said, the tone of his voice even as he tossed a pair of sweatpants towards Michael. The pants were Jared’s, Jensen had borrowed them when he had been caught in a storm and for some reason he had never gotten around to giving them back to his co-star. Jensen tugged open a drawer and pulled out a black t-shirt. “You can wear these,” he added, handing the t-shirt to Michael and pointing him in the direction of the bathroom.  
  
Michael nodded his head, a silent thanks passing between them as he went to get changed. When the door closed behind the hazel eyed man, Jensen leant his forehead against the wall. His head was spinning and his temples were throbbing. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before making his way downstairs to the kitchen.  
  
He was thinking of ways he could get Michael out of the house as quickly as possible when the other actor came through the kitchen door. The pants were a little too long in the leg, but not so much that Michael looked ridiculous. It was the way that the t-shirt clung to Michael’s muscles that took Jensen’s breath away.  
  
Michael noticed where he was looking and chuckled lightly as he crossed the room. “Been working out?” Jensen found his mouth saying before his brain could stop it.  
  
Michael blushed slightly. “A little,” he replied, accepting the beer that Jensen was offering him.  
  
Jensen nodded his head a little, his eyes taking in the changes in Michael’s physical appearance as they lapsed into silence. He didn’t look  _all_  that different, Jensen mused. The glasses were still present; his eyes were the same colour they had always been; Michael was still sporting the five o’clock shadow; he still got the same wrinkles in his forehead when he frowned, which he was doing at that very moment.  
  
“Jen.”  
  
“Mike.”  
  
Michael smiled bashfully. “You first,” he offered.  
  
Jensen hesitated slightly, not knowing how he could phrase what he was going to ask without sounding cold. “What are you doing here, Mike?” he asked bluntly.  
  
“Can we go into the sitting room where we can talk?” Michael asked. “Catch up? I know we didn’t part on very good terms.”  
  
“You called me a fucking whore, Michael!” Jensen snarled, feeling the familiar anger that had been running rampage that day, three years ago.  
Michael sighed and ran his hand through his hair, which was dripping droplets of water onto the shoulders of his t-shirt. “I know,” he whispered, turning his eyes away from Jensen. “And I’m sorry. Please can we just forget about the past?” he begged.  
  
Jensen didn’t hesitate with his answer. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re the one that came around here, Michael. You’re the one that’s been bombarding me with phone calls.  _Not_  the other way around. So either you tell me what the hell it is you want, or you get out of my house before I call the cops.”  
  
“You’d call the cops on me?” Michael asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.  
  
Jensen detected the disbelief and stalked towards the phone. “Do you want to test me?” he asked, his finger hovering over the nine button on the receiver.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Michael relented. Jensen lowered his head as he replaced the receiver. “I was going through some old boxes the other day and I found this,” he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small black box.  
  
He handed it to Jensen, who was surprised to find that his hands were shaking as he took it off of Michael. He knew what was inside the box before he even opened it; after all, he was the one that had purchased the silver band.  
  
Looking at the ring only brought back bad memories. Memories of a time that Jensen didn’t want to remember. He had done every effort to shut his days on  _Dark Angel_  out of his mind. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of the show, what got to him was the fact that every time he even thought about the show he was reminded about what had happened back stage between him and Michael.  
  
He wanted to kill himself for thinking it, but he loved Michael. There really was no other way to describe it. From the moment that Michael had offered to help him with his lines during the fifteenth episode of the second season, to the present moment in time. Jensen knew that he had never stopped loving Michael. Sure, he had hated him with every inch of his being and wanted to never hear the words  _Michael Weatherly_  ever again, but no matter how hard he tried he had never been able to get rid of his feelings for the older man. Feelings he had once been foolish enough to think were returned.  
  
“Yeah, well,” Jensen said, handing the box back to Michael, “it seemed like a good idea at the time,” he shrugged.  
  
Michael took a step closer, only to stop in his place when Jensen glared warningly at him. “Why are you being like this, Jen?” he asked softly. “It can’t be just because of what I said.”  
  
“Why can’t it?” Jensen snapped. “Why did you even come here? You come around, saying you’re sorry and all this bullshit, and then you’re standing there telling me that I can’t hate you because of what you said to me?” A few tears were threatening to fall from his eyes, but he pushed them back angrily. He had told himself that he would not cry one more tear over the man that was standing in front of him and he was not about to start then.  
  
“You  _lied_  to me, Michael,” Jensen continued, ignoring Michael when he tried to interrupt. “You told me that you  _fucking_  loved me and the next week you announced that you and  _her_  were engaged.” Jensen couldn’t even bring himself to say her name. Not only did he detest the mere mention of her name, but every time he saw a picture of  _perfect_  Jessica Alba it made him want to hurt someone. Badly.  
  
“I bought you this because I loved you as well,” Jensen shook his head, snatching the box back off of Michael. “I thought it would be nice, something you could wear - not on your left hand, just wherever you wanted - and no one would know what it meant, but you and I would be able to look at pictures and we’d  _get_  it.”  
  
Michael stepped closer to Jensen again, hoping that the shorter man wouldn’t move away. He let out an audible sigh of relief when Jensen remained where he was standing. “You know things could never have been serious between us back then, Jensen,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to caress Jensen’s cheek gently. Jensen moaned softly at the feel of Michael’s hand on his face as he leant into the touch involuntarily. “You knew things were getting serious between me and Jess.” Jensen scowled at the mention of her name and his eyes grew a shade darker. “Don’t be mad at her, Jen. She’s not the one that broke your heart.”  
  
“No,” Jensen agreed. “You did,” he whispered, not caring anymore as he allowed the tears to fall. “Why? Why couldn’t you have just told me that it wasn’t working out? That you were sick of all the lying and sneaking around.”  
  
“What would you have said to that?” Michael asked, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that were on Jensen’s cheeks. Jensen stubbornly shrugged his shoulders, making Michael smile. “I know you. You would have come out to the public, you would have told them the truth. That you prefer cock over pussy,”  
  
“Don’t,” Jensen argued, making Michael look at him curiously. “Just your cock,” he admitted sheepishly.  
  
“Either way you would have ruined your own career before you got chance to do everything you wanted to,” Michael continued as if Jensen hadn’t interrupted him, but the blush on his face was enough to make Jensen smile.  
  
“It would have ruined your career, as well,” Jensen reminded him.  
  
“And I wouldn’t have cared,” Michael told him firmly, moving his hand from Jensen’s cheek down his side so that it was resting on the shorter man’s waist. “None of this was ever about me. When I asked,“ he hesitated, unsure if he should mention his ex-fiancé’s name again, “Jessica to marry me I thought I was in love with her. I was scared, I had no idea how I could love two people at the same time.”  
  
“You can’t.”  
  
Michael smiled, pulling Jensen into his arms. He was relieved when he found that Jensen didn’t resist, he just allowed himself to be pulled closer so that he was resting his head against Michael’s shoulder. “And I know that now.”  
  
“Why did you say what you did?” Jensen asked quietly, his fingers tracing little patterns across Michael’s t-shirt covered collar bone.  
  
“Because I didn’t want you lingering on the hope that there was still a chance for us,” Michael admitted. “You were still so young, you should have been out on the town picking up hot girls for nameless one night stands before settling down. You shouldn’t have to deal with someone who has a kid and a crazy ex-wife in tow.”  
  
“She’s not crazy,” Jensen chuckled lightly. “Okay, maybe she’s a little bit crazy,” he added at Michael’s look.  
  
“I knew that you would never let me go without hearing an explanation about what I was thinking and I knew that you would tell me that I was stupid to think like that. I knew that I had to make you hate me enough for  _you_  to finish it with  _me_ ,” Michael continued. “I’m not proud of what I said and, please know that if I could take it back I would. I never meant  _any_  of it. But I was trying to do what I thought was right for you.  
  
“Foolishly, I thought I was over you until I heard that the WB was doing a new program. I knew that you were going to be in, so I set TiVo and watched it when I got home. It’s very good,” he complimented, “I’ve been watching it ever since.” Jensen blushed and buried his head further into Michael’s shoulder. “I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to call you for about a year now. I got your number from a friend, I’m not going to say who so don’t even bother asking,” he instructed when Jensen lifted his head. “But every time I got halfway through the number I’d lose my nerve and couldn’t do it.”  
  
He frowned when Jensen chuckled against his shoulder. “That’s what I’ve been doing for the past three years,” he smiled, looking into Michael’s hazel eyes. “Granted, I always needed a bit of liquid courage before I could even  _think_  about looking through my box of your things.”  
  
“I hurt you bad, didn’t I?” Michael asked, running his hand through Jensen’s short hair.  
  
“Yeah, you did,” Jensen whispered, not looking directly at the older man. “I felt so stupid. You made me feel like I was such a naïve little boy for falling for you. I know that you were dating… Jessica,” he tried not to spit out her name, “but when you said you loved me, everything was okay. The lying, the sneaking around, the secrecy. None of it mattered, because you felt the same way.”  
  
“Can you forgive me?” Michael whispered, tears welling up in his eyes as he listened to the pain in Jensen’s voice.  
  
“I don’t know,” Jensen replied honestly, turning his gaze back to Michael. “You can’t honestly expect to just waltz back in here after three years and expect me to fall to my knees willingly. It took me a long time to get over you, Mike,” he told him. “I’m not even completely there. I don’t want to be hurt again. I  _can’t_  get hurt again,” he added.  
  
Michael’s tears fell down his cheeks. “I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, Jen,” he whispered, pulling Jensen closer. “Just give me a chance to prove myself to you, please?” he begged.  
  
“How can I trust you now?” Jensen asked.  
  
“I don’t know,” Michael replied honestly. “Just believe me that I love you,” he added.  
  
“And you know that I love you, more than anything else,” Jensen said, “I always have. But if you hurt me that bad again I won’t be able to handle it. Don’t do it again,” he pleaded.  
  
“I’ll try not to,” Michael swore as he put a hand underneath Jensen’s chin, gently tilting his head upwards. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, threading his fingers through Jensen’s hair. He hesitated, pulling Jensen closer; giving him time to pull away if he wanted to. When Jensen moved closer, Michael pressed their lips together, a moan slipping out of his mouth when he felt Jensen’s soft lips against his own.  
  
“God, I missed you,” Jensen moaned, threading his fingers through Michael’s hair, pulling Michael closer.   
  
Michael groaned as he felt Jensen’s body pressed against his own. “I missed you too,” he breathed, his hands running down Jensen’s back to grab at an ass cheek.  
  
“Wait, wait,” Jensen said, pulling back abruptly. “This is too fast,” he whispered.  
  
Michael nodded his head reluctantly, he knew that Jensen was right. There was too much history between them for them to pick up where they had left off.  
  
“Can we go back to the beginning?” Jensen asked, his eyes wide as he looked up at Michael. “Start over?”  
  
Michael nodded his head, taking a step back and holding his hand out to Jensen, who was frowning in confusion. “Hi, I’m Michael Weatherly,” he greeted.  
  
Jensen smiled and placed his hand in Michael’s. “Hey,” he replied, “I’m Jensen Ackles,” he introduced himself, understanding where Michael was heading.  
  
They had a second chance together and there was no way that either of them were going to screw it up this time around.


End file.
